


Cynical

by MicrosuedeMouse



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Grumpy Fluff, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MicrosuedeMouse/pseuds/MicrosuedeMouse
Summary: Gwen tries to help for once, Max is a pain in the ass, and David is just worried.





	Cynical

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this lil fic literally months ago - like right after SDS I think? I never posted it I think because I figured it was too quick and simple compared to SDS, which was so damn successful. But, I've cleaned it up a bit and decided to share, as part of my quest to finish and post as many of 2017's WIPs as I can. Hope you enjoy!

“You’re killing us out here, kid.”

Max turned around in surprise, but relaxed a little as he realized it was just Gwen approaching him through the trees, no David in sight. Arms crossed, she strolled through the little clearing towards him.

“Whaddaya think I’m _trying_ to do?” he shot back, tucking his hands back into his hoodie pocket. He made no move to get up, so Gwen rounded the end of the fallen tree and sat down next to him.

“Get a quiet goddamn minute to yourself,” she answered.

Max glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, then shrugged. “That too, I guess,” he said drily.

“You _really_ didn’t wanna work with Space Kid, huh?” she asked, leaning back against her arms on the wide tree trunk.

“You guys really thought assigning partners would work?”

“David thought it was kinder than forcing you, Neil, and Nikki to figure out who’d be the odd one out,” Gwen said pointedly.

Max paused, taking that in for a second. “Oh.” Then, not one to lose his cool, he quickly added, “Well, Space Kid makes a terrible partner. He won’t take the helmet off. It would’ve been _kinder_ to pair me up with someone who could actually fucking _participate_ in a _blindfolded taste-test_.”

“David worried over the pairs for two hours last night,” she said, her tone flat. “I had to draw names out of a hat and then fill the chart out in permanent marker just to convince him to go to bed.”

There was another pause. “What a fucking loser,” he muttered.

“You’re not wrong,” she told him, shrugging one shoulder.

For a couple of moments they sat in silence. Then Max asked, “Why haven’t you dragged me back yet?”

“Because I needed a quiet goddamn minute, too,” she answered, absently picking at the bark of the fallen tree they were seated on. “You’re not the only one who gets a headache in all that chaos.”

He looked at her again, more obviously this time. “Why do you even _work_ here?”

“It’s hardly my top fuckin’ pick,” Gwen pointed out. “But I have to make ends meet _somehow_ if I want to maintain the privilege of not living with my family. So far I do a lot of temping and seasonal jobs and shit the rest of the year, but it’s all inconsistent as hell. At least Campbell will keep taking me back, and I can put a few reliable bucks in my pocket.”

Max raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re telling me Campbell pays you better than any other summer job you can find? God, this planet sucks.”

“Can’t disagree, kid.” There was a beat, and then she sighed. “But you really shouldn’t have to worry about that, at ten years old. I mean, god’s sake, even I was a little more cheerful than you at that age.”

“Bullshit,” he said immediately. “You’ve never smiled genuinely in your entire life.”

“Okay, fine, sure, I’m an evil old sea hag incapable of experiencing joy,” she said tiredly. Then she reached over and jabbed him in the side. “You’re avoiding the point.”

“Put your stupid psych degree away, Gwen,” he grumbled, kicking at the empty space below his hanging feet. “You’re not gonna diagnose me sitting on a log behind the mess hall.”

“An undergrad psych degree doesn’t _qualify_ me to diagnose you, dipshit,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “It doesn’t even factor into this conversation. I don’t need my education to spot a kid who’s _way_ too much like me for less than half my age.”

“Fine.” He looked up at her again, brows lowered defiantly. “What the fuck is there to be so cheerful about, anyway?”

“Anything! You’re fucking ten!” Gwen spread her hands out in front of her. “The best thing about being ten is that you don’t _have_ to worry about the world yet, Max! You get to fuck around with so much free time it’s stupid, you get to goof off and run rampant and be dumb and pull stunts with your friends, because the world doesn’t expect shit from a ten-year-old. You don’t have bills to pay, you don’t have people to feed, you don’t have any responsibilities at all. You might as well enjoy the world for a minute before it starts to _deserve_ all that spite.”

“What’s the point of enjoying it if it’s gonna fuck me over later, though?” Max demanded. “Won’t I just end up miserable like you in the end?”

Gwen lowered her gaze. “Listen,” she said slowly. “Things might not be going like I planned, and sure, I complain a lot, but… I’m not _completely_ miserable. Even when shit sucks, there are reprieves. Things, places, people that make it better. Like, you have Nikki and Neil, right?” She scratched idly at a couple of mosquito bites on her arm. “You came to this shithole even though you didn’t want to, and you hate it, with good fucking reason, but there are people here who make you smile, and you never would have met them if you hadn’t come. Those people can turn out to be some of the most important parts of your life. Bad things can bring good things. Life-changing things, even.”

Max narrowed his eyes at her. “So,” he began, that familiar taunting tone in his voice again, “does David _know_ you think he’s ‘ _life-changing?_ ’”

Her shoulders tensed, and she shot him a look like he’d just suggested she date the Quartermaster. “That’s a fucking _jump_ ,” she sputtered, incensed. “Are _you_ gunning for a psych degree now? Because that’s the most ridiculous shit I’ve heard since my classmate suggested I had a fucking Oedipus complex.”

Max grinned, which she never really liked. “Listen, you just make it sound like there’s _someone_ here who stops you from offing yourself, and it’s sure as shit not one of _us_ ,” he told her.

“We’re talking about _you_ right now, you shithead,” she snapped. “God, how does David manage to keep trying so hard with you? The one and only time I decide to _talk_ to you instead of just throwing you over my shoulder and hauling you back there, and you pull shit like this. Listen, all I’m saying is, show a little appreciation for what you’ve got now or it won’t stay, and then you really _will_ be miserable, and then you’ll fucking deserve it.” Her face had reddened by now, probably out of anger.

“Sounds like you could afford to take your own fucking advice,” Max told her, though his confidence seemed just slightly shaken.

“Okay. We’re done here,” Gwen muttered, getting to her feet. She picked Max up and tossed him over her shoulder exactly as she’d threatened to do, ignoring his irritated curses as she carried him back to the others.

 

“Hey, Gwen, are you, uh… okay?” David asked carefully, standing behind his armchair with his hands resting on the back. “You’ve been very quiet and… _glare-y_ since this afternoon.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped immediately. Then, after a couple seconds of silence, she sighed and put her magazine down in her lap where she was lounging sideways in her own chair. “Sorry. Max got on my nerves, that’s all. I shouldn’t let him get under my skin.”

“Getting under people’s skin is the only thing so far that I know Max likes to do,” David admitted. “But I can’t run a camp activity on that, so I keep trying to find something else.”

Gwen snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.” When she glanced up, David was giving her a half-worried, half-hopeful smile, and she felt her heart sink. Biting her lip, she looked down at the floor. “David, do I… complain too much?” she asked after a moment.

“Oh! Uh…” He seemed to fumble with that, glancing away awkwardly. “Well, I don’t know about… I mean… You complain more than _I_ like to complain, but I fully support your right to express your opinions and vent your frustration in whatever way works best for you personally.”

She laughed, a little bitterly. “So that’s a yes, then,” she said, and David didn’t meet her eye, going a little red. “Do I even… _ever_ say thank you? Or like, tell you that I appreciate how you basically run this fucking place, or that I like working with you, or… anything?”

“Oh, Gwen,” David said gently, rounding his chair to sit down facing her. “I _know_ you appreciate my work. And you should give yourself more credit. Camp Campbell would fall apart without you here.” He hesitated, then added, “Listen, there’s a box of brownie mix in the mess hall that I was saving for a special occasion, but I can always pick up more the next time I’m in town. You seem like you could really use a pick-me-up, so why don’t I just go—”

“ _Christ_ ,” she interrupted, laughing again, even more bitterly this time. Her head thrown back – she couldn’t even look at him – she muttered, “God, Max is right. I don’t even remotely deserve you.”

“What?” he asked, confused now.

“I tried to tell that dumbass to show some appreciation for the good things and people in his life before they disappear and he really starts to deserve all that goddamn spite and self-pity,” she said, sounding tired now. “He told me to take my own fucking advice, and I got all offended, but here we are and I’ve never even fucking _thanked_ you for _anything_.”

“Su… sure you have,” David stammered. “Yesterday you thanked me for making the coffee in the morning. And the day before you thanked me for letting you shower first.”

“As if that makes any goddamn difference,” Gwen answered. “I never do anything to deserve any of that. I never return the favour, I never do more than I have to around here, I never tell you you’re the only good fucking thing _about_ this job.”

“There are _hundreds_ of good things about this job, Gwen!” he piped, almost as if it were automatic. “Why, there’s—”

“You’re an idiot,” she groaned, dragging her hands down her face. Only David would fixate on completely the wrong part of the sentence that way.

“What?”

She finally forced herself to look at him again. “Why do you think I keep coming back here, stupid? I _hate_ this place. Sure, it’s convenient that Campbell’s up to keep me, but I would’ve found _something_ else to do if I had to work with just about anyone else. You know that, right?”

David paused, processing that. “You… you come back because of _me?_ ”

“Yeah, but for some stupid fucking reason I’ve got my head too far up my own ass to ever actually _tell_ you so, and yet you’re so goddamn nice to me _all the time_. I don’t deserve that, David! Your co-counselor should be some kind of peppy Davidetta who actually _likes_ this place and _likes_ children and _wants_ to be here and run activities with you and _tells_ you you’re the best thing about her summer every year.”

He was quiet for a second, and then said, “I don’t think that would work very well.” Considering it further, he shook his head. “No, this place needs a Gwen. If Davidetta were here, and she were just like me, who would remember how to do the paperwork, or rescue me when the kids get out of control, or remember how to bandage a stab wound? I _like_ having a Gwen.”

Gwen’s head fell back again. “You’re too nice, David,” she said softly. “It’s going to get you in trouble one day.”

After a short silence, he got out of his chair and started to head for the door. “I’m going to go make those brownies,” he said.

Gwen caught his wrist as he passed her chair, keeping him in place. He glanced down at her. “…Why?” she asked.

He smiled. “Because _you’re_ one of the best things about _my_ summer,” he told her. “And because I _like_ you, and because I _want_ to, because I want you to feel better.”

“I don’t…” She sighed, then looked down at herself laying sideways across her chair, and said, “one sec.” Letting go of his hand, she hauled herself up out of the chair and onto her feet, turning to face him. “I don’t understand you. I feel… so far behind, in terms of kindness. I owe you so goddamn much by now.”

David’s smile grew a little brighter. “Kindness isn’t something that gets paid back and forth like a transaction, Gwen,” he told her. “It’s just something you give people, because you want to.”

She stared at him for a second, this man who wanted to be kind to her _just because_ even after years of her laziness, who appreciated her despite never receiving any gratitude in return, who was determined to bake her emergency brownies just because she’d had a rough afternoon. She had never met anyone who would go to half those lengths for her sorry ass, she didn’t think. And god, Max was right, she _knew_ he was right even if she didn’t _want_ him to be right, because the idea of that little monster being able to read her was just too uncomfortable.

“I feel like… I _do_ owe you a little honesty,” she said slowly, still uncertain she was making the right decision, but here she was and it was going to happen now. “So, could I… give you something in return, real quick?”

“If you want to,” he said. “But you still don’t _owe_ me anything.”

“Yeah, but that’s exactly why you deserve this,” she said with a sigh. Then, trying not to give herself any time to second-guess, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly.

“Oh,” he breathed when she pulled away a second or two later. “ _Oh_.” She watched as his face flushed red and he cracked a nervous smile. And then, absurdly, he started to _giggle_.

“Uh, hey,” she said anxiously, furrowing her brow. Giggling wasn’t anywhere on the list of possible responses she had considered. “So…”

“Sorry,” he managed, reddening further. “I just – uh – it’s been a really long time – since, uh – since anyone kissed me.” He was still fucking _giggling_.

“Is it, uh… was that okay?” she asked, her already-shaky confidence crumpling.

“No, yeah, it’s definitely – it’s _very_ okay,” he answered quickly, grabbing her hands.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. Here goes. “Because when I say you’re the only good thing about this place, I kind of mean I’m _super into you_ but also _super in denial_ because it doesn’t make any goddamn sense and I don’t deserve you at _all_ —”

“Yeah, but I’m—” David floundered briefly. “I mean, I’m really into you too but I— you’re so _smart_ and I know you don’t like it very much here so I didn’t figure _I_ would be very— that is, I kind of assumed I wasn’t your _type_ and that it wouldn’t really—”

Gwen kissed him again, partly out of relief and partly out of an anxious need for reassurance and partly to get him to stop babbling. It had been an impulsive day so far.

Once again, he laughed when she pulled away. “Oh, gosh,” he mumbled. “Okay, so now we’re kissing.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I kind of – wanted to keep doing it.”

He was practically giddy, and she had to bite down on a stupid smile of her own. “Yeah, okay,” he answered.

 

The next day, serving lunch and still pointedly not looking at David in front of the campers because she didn’t want to be caught _smiling like a fucking sixteen-year-old moron_ , Gwen glanced side to side to make sure no one was watching and then silently placed three brownies on Max’s tray.

“The fuck?” he muttered, looking at her suspiciously. “Are these _poisoned?_ ”

She frowned deeply at him, then glanced meaningfully over at where Neil and Nikki were already seated.

“…Oh.” He regarded her mistrustfully for a moment or two longer, then slowly stepped back and headed over to the table he shared with his friends. Leaning forward to hear, Gwen listened to him saying, “Hey, guys, uh, I… I stole these secret brownies when Gwen wasn’t looking. They might be like, drugged or something, but I figured we could share…”

She smiled to herself as she stepped further into the kitchen, out of the view of the kids. “So it worked?” David asked hopefully.

“It did,” she answered, a little self-satisfied. “I got Max to take my advice _and_ do something nice.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You’re a miracle worker,” David said admiringly, kissing her.


End file.
